


Should've worshipped her sooner

by newtmasdoesthedo



Series: Because this is electric [1]
Category: The Maze Runner (2014), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: F/M, brotp turned otp, damn it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-27
Updated: 2014-10-27
Packaged: 2018-02-22 21:39:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2522708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newtmasdoesthedo/pseuds/newtmasdoesthedo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Minho and Teresa could be anything, but first and foremost they were friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Told me worship in the bedroom is the only heaven I'll be sent to

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. This was supposed to be a oneshot.  
> 2\. It was also supposed to be a brotp fic. But as you can tell I got side-tracked.  
> 3\. Blame everything on [queenmalia](http://queenmalia.tumblr.com) of Tumblr.  
> 4\. I want people to ship Minresa with us. Pls. Do it. Give this fic a chance, I beg of you. It's the only Minresa fic out there. Give them a chance. Write something for them. They're both so amazing. Pls pls pls. Love this with me, fall with me, I'm drowning.

Minho and Teresa aren’t really the types of people you’d expect to be friends. They took a long time before even beginning to interact after their friends introduced them, Minho thinking that Teresa was an annoying know-it-all and Teresa thinking that Minho was an egomaniac man whore. Maybe they’re just too similar.  
  
So basically the ground hadn’t been fertile for a friendship for a long time, and maybe it’s that super nerds Thomas and Newt just took a painfully long time finally getting together or maybe it’s just the tequila talking, but after having forcefully told their friends to get their acts together Minho and Teresa finally start bonding. Over drinking tequila and ripping strangers apart, that is.  
  
So maybe bitchy, sarcastic shitting on other people isn’t supposed to be the best ground for a friendship, but it sure as hell works out well for them. Newt and Thomas are his best friends, no doubt, but Teresa is somehow  _the_ best if that makes any sense. She gets him in a way Newt and Thomas don’t because they’re such giant, mushy saps.  
  
Teresa and him share a humour, they’re both fluent in sarcasm, and they both do tequila shots like pros. So maybe sometimes it’s body tequilas, but that’s just because it’s fun and it keeps creeps from hitting on T that they think she’s dating “that buff Asian dude.”  
  
___________________________________________________________________  
  
And yeah, their friendship definitely makes it easier for Minho to stare down the bartender who’s made several comments on Teresa’s nice rack, and yeah, it’s a nice rack, but people don’t get to talk to her like that. Minho gets to make crude comments about Teresa’s body, Teresa gets to make crude comments about his, but no one else gets to do stuff like that.  
  
And Minho knows she can fend for herself, Teresa is tougher than nails. She could kick anyone’s ass if she wanted to, even his.  _Especially his,_ as she notes after he offers to kick the bartender’s ass for her. “I can kick ass on my own, thank you very much.” Teresa notes, an expression somewhere between amused and annoyed on her face.  
  
Minho shrugs, because hey, he wasn’t trying to devalue her amazing self-preservation skills. Minho once saw Teresa rip a guy to shreds with her words alone, and he knows from the self-defence classes he’s been giving her that she knows how to throw a good punch as well. She’s a great sparring-partner, and since Minho started working out with her he actually got in even better shape. He notices that Thomas and Newt are embarrassed by them, pointing it out to her, and she just rolls her eyes and sends them a sugary sweet smile, waving with only her fingertips in a mocking gesture, while Newt and Thomas look mortified. “I know you can take care of yourself, T, what I’m trying to say is that you don’t have to. I got your back.” He states, and the bartender walks by at that very moment, smirking and saying something along the lines of “I’d like to have her back.” And Minho is almost over the counter before any of them can blink, grabbing onto his collar and hissing in his face. “If you don’t slim it right now, I’ll rip out your tongue and feed it to you, do you understand?”  
  
And only when the guy nods, almost whimpering when Minho stares him dead in the eye and waits for him to say yes, the Asian is satisfied and lets go of him.  
  
So after that night they decide that they’re friends, and Minho is really happy about that. Because seriously, there’s no one like Teresa out there.  
  
___________________________________________________________________  
  
“You know,” Teresa starts, stretching while Minho is finding a pair of boxing gloves for both of them. “I don’t need you to fight my battles. You don’t have to stand up for me every time.”  
  
Minho just shrugs. “I’m aware of that. I know you can take perfectly good care of yourself. I’m terrified of you; anyone would be stupid not to be. I just care about you, and these people talk to you like you’re not even a person, like you’re just a piece of meat, and I don’t like that. It’s bullshit.” Minho states, indifference colouring his voice although the matter-of-fact way he says his words presents the very clear evidence that he cares. “Now, get that tight little ass over here, missy, you’re not just here to show off your new skimpy outfit.” He smirks, and he runs his gaze over Teresa just for effect, but they both know it doesn’t matter because they’re Teresa and Minho. They’re friends, and maybe they can appreciate each other being attractive (‘cause there’s really no denying that), but it’s not like that. They’re not in love, and maybe there’s a slight attraction there, but it’s not something they’re going to let themselves act on, because really it’s just not what they’re about.  
  
When they go from kickboxing to karate that day Minho makes a teasing remark. He instantly regrets the “You’re getting good, you’ll be able to beat me soon.” when Teresa sends him flying in an arch straight over her left hip, and maybe he only gets to pin her down because he tackles her and uses dirty tricks.  
  
None the less he manages, and that’s the only thing that saves his ego for now, because yeah, Teresa is probably the smartest person he knows and she’s a badass, but he’s been doing this for years and he doesn’t want to be beaten by someone he’s only taught for about a year, no matter how good a friend that person may be.  
So he smirks down at her, and Teresa sticks out her tongue at him, but it’s good, because as soon as he helps her up she’s on his back and they wrestle for a good fifteen minutes before realizing that people are staring and none of them will come out of this a real winner.  
___________________________________________________________________  
  
The next time they’re out is different. It’s tough, because Teresa’s ex is in town and Minho is generally feeling crappy. Realizing how lonely you are isn’t fun. When you’re the kind of type to keep your emotions inside and put on a tough front for everyone else, there aren’t many people you can actually go to.  
  
Minho doesn’t really know why he senses that Teresa needs him. Maybe it’s because of the way she can’t seem to look at Thomas and Newt. Maybe it’s because he’s fucking lonely himself, so he suggests they go bum a cigarette from someone (Newt sends them a stern look, but Thomas covers his lips with his own so the blonde can’t scold them for killing themselves with stuff like that). And when they’re outside Minho doesn’t say a word, he just leads her away from the people standing around and when she starts asking him what he’s doing he just pulls her into his arms and holds her tight. Teresa stiffens, obviously not quite sure what’s happening, and Minho’s voice may or may not be a little gruff when he says, “Just keep your mouth shut and hug it out.”   
  
Teresa seems to relax a bit more at this, and she finally hugs him back, and they don’t have to say anything for right now, because after all Minho and Teresa understand each other. If they can agree on pretty much anything else, they sure as hell can agree that loneliness and heartbreak sucks as well, and really the details doesn’t matter. None of them were ever sharers anyway, and just standing there is comfortable and easy. They give each other the silent comfort each of them need, and then they walk back into the club, laughing and joking like they always do.  
  
And when the party stops there’s nothing weird about them going to the apartment Minho and Newt share. Because honestly, why would Teresa want to listen to Thomas and Newt shag all night when she can just crash in Newt’s bed while the idiots defile Thomas and Teresa’s apartment for the umpteenth time.  
  
If Minho comments on how they should have gotten enough of each other a long time ago, he says it fondly, and Teresa laughs at the joke because honestly, no one can actually hate Thomas and Newt together because the dorks are so in love it’s disgusting.  
  
So they make their way home, they find salt and lemons and tequila, and it doesn’t even matter when Thomas shoots Teresa a message that Newt had forgotten that Frypan is crashing at their place, because really they’re way too smashed to care that they’re going to sleep in the same bed, and hey, they’re both pretty lonely, so they shed their clothes and they stumble into bed, and they hold each other close because Minho and Teresa could be anything, but first and foremost they’re friends.  
___________________________________________________________________  
  
Waking up to Frypan staring at him in wonder has never been something Minho wanted, so the Asian sits up, and Frypan’s eyes grow wider and his face colours. Minho frowns and looks next to him, and there’s a very sleeping Teresa and her milky skin is showing, her modesty only saved by her bra, and Minho rolls his eyes and covers her up, sending Frypan a stern look, “Jesus Fry, don’t be a creep.” And then he groans and looks around, noticing the mess all over his room. He grimaces. Lemons, salt, tequila and clothes lying around everywhere.  
  
“Did you guys…?” Frypan mutters, and Minho shakes his head, because  _shit he doesn’t even remember_ , but he’s sure as hell not telling Frypan anything when he’s not sure. The jerk can’t keep his mouth shut when there’s good gossip, and Minho isn’t having any of that.  
  
“Nah man, we just fell asleep here, she was gonna crash in Newt’s room, but then you were there.” He explains, shrugging because everybody knows that he and T are good friends, so it really doesn’t matter that much.  
  
Frypan seems to accept that. “Okay. I guess that’s why Gally left early, he probably thought you did.”  
  
Minho groans and picks up his phone, because Gally isn’t one to gossip, but Minho still wants to make sure the guy doesn’t assume anything until he can clear this with Teresa. Besides, they’re just friends, so even if they did something stupid that shouldn’t be a problem. He knows he couldn’t have done anything to hurt Teresa or something that she didn’t want, so Minho is not worried. He’s almost certain they didn’t do anything.  
  
When she stretches next to him he glares at Frypan until he gets the point and leaves the room, and Minho lies back down, head throbbing, but he still wraps his arms around Teresa and pulls her closer because he’s not sure if she’s completely okay yet. Yesterday was a weird night. Not all bad, but still weird, and maybe Minho doesn't feel so good himself and he doesn't want to get out of bed, so cuddling works for now.  
  
“What’re ya doing, Min?” Teresa mutters tiredly, and Minho just shrugs and wraps her further up in his arms, burying his face in her hair and they pass out for another couple of hours before they wake up and Minho tells Teresa about Gally and Frypan. They agree that they probably didn’t do anything if they don’t remember, and if they’re uncertain about it, that doesn’t really matter.  
  
“So, what do you think we did?” Minho asks, grimacing when he moves out of bed and puts on a couple of sweatpants. His whole body is pounding. It’s like a flock of elephants trampled him and then returned only to trample him while running the other way. Judging by the look on Teresa’s face when she stands up she feels the same way. He remembers them wrestling back here, but he also remembers them maybe getting into a bit of a fight with some people, so it’s really nothing to judge by.  
  
Minho tosses her one of his plaid shirts and she puts it on, and Minho can totally appreciate the lithe frame even if it’s nothing sexual. Teresa is gorgeous and whoever ends up with her is one lucky bastard. Minho wants to smash in the skull of her ex for making her feel bad. None the less, he doesn’t say anything, because she’d kill him if he even thought about offering. Instead he goes to make some breakfast and while stuffing their faces with eggs and bacon they watch some stupid rom-com that Teresa is picking apart the entire time.  
  
Even if they did hook up last night, that doesn’t change anything because this is what they’re really about.  
  
Minho and Teresa could be anything, but first and foremost they’re friends.  
___________________________________________________________________  
  
Three days later something shows up. They don’t really know how it happened, but on Facebook a picture surfaces, and it’s unmistakably Minho’s face pressed to Teresa’s chest as they sleep, and she’s definitely curled up around him in a way that’s almost protective. There isn’t much space between them, and when they both roll their eyes and  _definitely_ don’t blush, their friends seem a little disappointed. Minho’s only a little bit embarrassed because it basically looks like Teresa’s being the big spoon and his ego isn’t a huge fan of that. Minho and Teresa aren’t that easy to freak out, though. Besides, they’re both pretty hot, so there’s nothing to be ashamed of really. Besides, they’re both pretty sure that Frypan did it somehow.   
  
Gally is just rolling his eyes a lot and looking uncomfortable, so Minho wonders if he managed to convince him that they didn’t hook up. The picture probably doesn’t help, and Minho almost feels bad for the other guy.  
___________________________________________________________________  
  
The next time Teresa ends up in Minho’s arms is different. They’re celebrating that Thomas and Newt are moving in together, and though they’re both happy on behalf of their friends, it means that they’re both going to have to find new roommates. It sucks big time, because they were both used to living with their best friends, and having to live with strangers… no. That won’t be fun.   
  
Of course they’re happy for them. Of course they are. But happiness on the behalf of others does not neglect the loneliness they feel themselves, so they get drunk. Not as much as last time. They’re mostly just tipsy and lonely, and that’s the only excuse they actually have when they stumble into Teresa’s apartment that night. Teresa tastes like tequila and something sweet that Gally mistakenly ordered for her but she drank anyway because even if Teresa likes to pretend to be a badass, she’s nothing if not a good person.  
  
She puts up shields, and Minho is so grateful he managed to strip some of those away, so yeah, it’s stupid, but it doesn’t stop clumsy lips from scrambling to reach each other. It doesn’t stop eager hands, and it doesn’t stop any of them when Teresa frees Minho of his jeans and Minho’s breath hitches when she wraps her legs around his waist.  
  
He pushes her dress up, and when her nails drag down over taut muscles on his back he all but growls into her mouth and it rough and desperate and stupid and perfect. It’s everything any of them needs. It just goes to prove when they get into bed on wobbly legs that Minho and Teresa can be everything, but first and foremost they’re friends. When Minho pulls Teresa close and kisses her hair before they go to sleep and a warm, naked body is pressed against his it dawns on him that this was probably stupid. They wake a couple of hours later, and it seems like they’ve both forgotten any sense of regret they might have had, because they have sex again, and it’s just like before and Minho’s in awe over every single movement. He wonders why no one has ever seemed to realize and appreciate how amazing she is. He wonders why no one has made it their mission to map out every inch of her body, so he does, and yeah, they’re just friends, and this isn’t going to mean much in the morning, at least not in a way that’ll change something between them. So Minho worships every little bit of her and revels in his ability to make her quiver.   
  
When they wake up the next morning there’s no problem. They make breakfast, they watch stupid flics, and they don’t really talk about it because there’s really no need to. They’re just Min and T. They needed each other, and they were there for each other, the way they always are. So when Teresa starts dating someone it doesn’t really bother Minho. He’s pretty happy for her, actually, and yeah, he maybe has a talk with the guy about taking good care of her, but that doesn’t really matter because that’s just Minho being protective.  
  
Besides, he’s dating a kid named Ben himself, so he doesn’t care much. Him and T go on the way they always did, except for the sleeping in the same bed, but that’s more for their boyfriends’ sakes than anything else because really, what boyfriend wants his partner to sleep in the same bed as someone as good-looking as Teresa and Minho? No one.   
Minho and Teresa could be anything, but first and foremost they’re friends.  
  
___________________________________________________________________  
  
”I wish you guys had never become friends. You’re bloody awful.” Newt groans from a bench where he’s sitting, holding Thomas’ hand like the major dork he is, and Teresa and Minho stick out their tongues at them on cue.  
  
”The swing sets are supposed to be for the kids, you know.” Thomas states, arching an eyebrow and Minho flips him off, unaffected that there are kids there gazing longingly at the swing set.  
  
”Well, Tom,” Teresa counters, and Minho is already snickering because her tone is just  _drenched_ with sarcasm, ”You’re lucky I have a date tonight, because that gets me in a mood to explain things to you. The kids will grow up one day, and then  _they_ can hawk the swing set.” She explains, swinging higher, but still managing to give Minho a high five when he whoops and hollers, and Thomas is just rolling his eyes at them.  
  
“Maybe you two shouldn’t hang out so much, you’re turning into the same person and it’s really disgusting. Like, Newt got that doofus smile and Thomas started rolling his eyes all the time. Doubt that an English accent would suit your ugly face, Greenie.” Minho states and Teresa snickers next to him. Then they look at each other. “1… 2… 3…” and jump off, and Teresa beats Minho by at least half a meter. She’s lighter anyway, so it’s only about that, not about technique, and they actually manage to start bickering about that.  
  
Thomas groans from the bench. “You wouldn’t think both of you get laid on a regular basis.” He states, and both Minho and Teresa turn and pounce on him at the same time.  
___________________________________________________________________  
  
”Hey, so how did you say ”go fuck yourself” in Korean?” Teresa asks as they walk into the movie theatre, and Minho raises an eyebrow at her.  
  
”Remember that word I said the day you slapped me in the face while working out?” he asks, and Teresa nods happily, fondly remembering how she completely tripped because Minho kept going easy on her because she was a girl. He sure as hell hasn’t since. They’re both fitter than they’ve ever been and it’s fucking glorious to feel like you’re all aces, especially seeing as they both have really hot boyfriends as well, and just knowing that you don’t have to worry about them finding someone hotter is grand. ”That’s the one.” he says, and Teresa says something that isn’t entirely far off, but still not exactly right, so they practice it while buying candy and the Korean boy behind the counter looks very confused but also very amused.   
  
They only make it ten minutes into the movie before Teresa starts getting into a fight with someone. The person is speaking loudly while the movie is playing and Minho’s just as annoyed as she is. So when they’ve rolled their eyes for ten minutes she snaps, and yells at them to shut up. It’s completely silent apart from the movie for a while, and Minho’s pretty certain it’s awkward for everyone else, but he and Teresa are fine and that’s all that really matters. When the people start speaking again they throw popcorn at them until they shut up, and that might be immature, but so is speaking at the movie theatre so neither of them really cares that they’re being rude. So maybe Minho and Teresa start cursing the kids out in Korean when they start speaking again, and in the end they’re thrown out of the theatre for being vulgar, but hey, the movie wasn’t that good anyway and Teresa and Minho can have fun on their own.   
  
So maybe Minho almost gets in a fight with the guy who’s about to throw them out, but Teresa bats her lashes and gets them out of trouble when the guy threatens to call the police. Minho is impressed with Teresa and disgusted with the dude.  
___________________________________________________________________  
  
“So, Cara’s leaving.” Teresa tells him one day over coffee. Minho looks up from the level of Candy Crush taunting him from his phone and hands it over to Teresa, she’s better than him at this anyway. She hands him her Wordfeud and starts working furiously on his Candy Crush level.   
  
“That sucks. I liked her.” He says, shrugging, because what else can you really say? He’s had 7 different roommates in the year Thomas and Newt have been living together, and he’s made four of them cry. Hasn’t really worked out as well as you could want them to. The former one just left, and Minho doesn’t really know where to look for another.  
  
He blinks. Looks down at the Wordfeud game and back up at Teresa. Then he smiles and works on the game for her. “I’m sure you’ll figure something out, though. You’re gonna be fine, T, you’re always fine.” He promises, absolutely certain that yeah, she will be fine.  
  
An hour and a lot of work later Minho has fixed her game and he pushes the phone over to her and gets his own back in exchange. He’s several levels further than he’d been before she got the phone but that’s no surprise really, Teresa is freakishly good at this game. “Gally sure sends you a lot of lives in this.” She states, and Minho shrugs and smiles.  
  
“Well, he likes that I talk to him about his rocks.” He says, pointing at the phone, and Teresa looks down. “I lost. But I did some pretty cool words.”  
  
The brunette looks at him sceptically, knowing that Minho  _never_ lost a game of Wordfeud or Scrabble or anything related to the things before, but she picks up her phone and stares at it for a long time, face unreadable. Maybe Minho is a bit nervous, but he’s Minho, so he doesn’t let it show. Then she looks up and arches an eyebrow. “So, your place or mine?” and Minho can’t keep the smile off his face.  
  
The waiter that was on his way over immediately turns around, obviously thinking that this is a whole other kind of conversation. This sends both of them into a laughing fit, but soon after they straighten up, ready to talk business.  
  
Minho doesn’t really take long to make a decision. “Yours. Yours is nicer, also your stuff doesn’t look like two disgusting boys lived in it for several years.”  
  
Teresa nods, musing, and then puts her chin in her palm and her elbow on the table. “You’re bringing your gaming consoles.”  
  
Minho rolls his eyes because that was never really up for debate.  
___________________________________________________________________  
  
And it’s beautiful. It’s the best Minho has ever had, because seriously, Teresa is the bomb and they’re both messy fuckers, so it doesn’t really matter when stuff is just lying around. They play PlayStation until the crack of dawn, they get drunk on cheap beer, and they hang out. It’s amazing, and Minho wouldn’t trade it for anything.  
  
And yeah, the others think it’s weird that Minho is practically never wearing a shirt around there, and that Teresa has abandoned every pretence of wanting to wear pants. It makes both Alby and Gally very uncomfortable, so sometimes when they’re there she puts them on, sometimes she doesn’t just because their faces are funny, but Thomas, Newt and Minho have gotten used to it. So maybe Newt and Thomas states sometimes that it’s weird, and maybe they’re speculating that something else is really going on, and who can blame them really?  
  
Minho and Teresa could be anything, but first and foremost they’re friends.  
___________________________________________________________________  
  
Another great part of them living together is that Teresa doesn’t even have to say anything when her boyfriend cheats on her. Minho spends way more money than he should on ice-cream, popcorn, chocolate and renting every sad romance movie that ever was, and then he pulls on his rattiest sweatpants and brings Teresa that sweater of his she likes wearing when she does her washing, and they curl up on the couch.  
  
When the Notebook starts playing, though, Teresa just stares at him like he’s a complete idiot. She rolls her eyes and gets up, never one to show any weaknesses even though she could and Minho wouldn’t mind in the slightest, and she puts on something else.  
  
Three hours later Minho is mentally scarred, because  _what the fuck T?!,_ and Teresa definitely isn’t kind enough to not tease him about him actually hiding his face in a pillow at one point. If Minho and her spend 45 minutes after that arguing about her mental state and the fact that Minho is  _not_ usually one to surpass scary movies that’s just because they’re comfortable in each other’s company.  
  
“So, wanna watch something less disturbing now? I mean, Antichrist was a whole ball of fun, but maybe try to cope with your feelings instead, you psycho.” He states, and Teresa just rolls her eyes and agrees that he can put Moulin Rouge in, but he sure as hell isn’t going to make her watch The Notebook. “You know, I rented these for you, it’s not like  _I_ like to watch a grown man cry for a whole movie.” He grumbles, and Teresa just smirks and tells him that he’s such a manly man.  
  
Minho isn’t exactly sure when the mood changes, but it does. Maybe Teresa just needs him, maybe he’s the one starting it, but at one point she laughs and points at the screen through her tears (and Minho is a gentleman, so he pretends he doesn’t see, because he knows those tears have nothing to do with the movie and everything to do with the fact that yet another person failed to love her like she deserves), but he finds his hands on her cheeks and if the kiss tastes like popcorn, strawberry ice-cream and salty tears, that’s totally fine. When a broken sob leaves Teresa’s lips, Minho swallows it before pulling away a little bit, because he’s not going to use her when she feels like this. So he flips them over, lying on his back with her face on his chest, and she glares at him. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” she hisses, and he shrugs helplessly.  
  
“I don’t want to take advantage of you, T, you’re really sad right now, and I’m not going to be the jerk using my friend like that.” he defends himself, and the tightening at the corners of her eyes tells him that that wasn’t the right thing to say. She starts to get up, but Minho grabs her wrist and squeezes her close to his chest, ignoring the way she slaps at it, “It’s got nothing to do with whether or not I want you, T, you’re gorgeous. Don’t be stupid. I’d be an idiot not to want you, but I’m not sure now is-“ and then her lips crash onto his, and she’s still crying, but she’s also fumbling with her  _(his)_ sweater and pulling it over her head, hips directly on top of his, and his mouth goes completely dry, because Minho and Teresa could be anything, but first and foremost they’re friends.  
  
That doesn’t change the fact that Teresa is probably the most beautiful girl Minho has ever seen in his entire life, and if they weren’t so good with the platonic stuff, he would’ve made a move on her a million times over.  
  
When they have sex this time it’s different than the first. It starts out frantic and aggressive because Teresa is angry with him for actually getting her to confront her emotions, but as she feels Minho’s hands on her she starts calming down. He refuses to give her the fast, rough, angry revenge-sex she wants to have. That’s not how a person should treat a girl like Teresa.  
  
So every move he makes is deliberate. When she finally calms down he flips them over again, and they’re both almost naked and breathing heavy, their lips swollen from kissing and their hair mussed up from tugging and pulling. He’s certain he’ll have bitemarks tomorrow because when Teresa goes at it, she certainly doesn’t hold back. He’ll worry about that tomorrow, though. He’ll tell their friends that he brought some girl home whose name he doesn’t remember. It’s been happening a lot since he and Ben ended things anyway. No one will be surprised.  
  
He doesn’t waste time thinking about that right now, though. Instead he focuses every bit of his impressive attention span on Teresa. He leans back so he can look at her, and he gently brushes a strand of hair away from her face, his gaze warm and intense on her body. And then he goes to work, ghosting calloused fingertips over Teresa’s skin, enjoying the smooth, milky complexion and when he’s done he proceeds to do the same with his lips, leaving no inch untouched, and he has her gasping before even removing her underwear. When he takes a rosy nipple between his lips she’s positively panting. When he moves to her panties she’s growling for him to get on with it, but Minho just smirks up at her and as a punishment  _(it’s worship, but Minho tells himself it’s not because Minho doesn’t worship people)_  he spends about ten minutes using his tongue and fingers on top of them, feather light touches only designed to drive her completely mad, and it works because she’s chanting his name like a prayer.  
  
 _How ironic when Minho is the one doing the worshipping._  
  
Minho finally removes Teresa’s last piece of clothing (which has nothing to do with the fact that she’s threatening to murder him in his sleep if he doesn’t – he definitely doesn’t laugh at her for a while before being ready to proceed) but he doesn’t stop his ministrations until she’s coming apart underneath him, and when she comes down from her high, panting with her hair wild and curly around her face because of the sweat, Minho is pretty sure she’s never been more beautiful.  
  
He’s not really expecting anything. He’ll be fine going to the bathroom to jack off, so when he starts to slide off her softly he doesn’t expect for her to wrap her arms around his shoulders, whispering, “Oh no you don’t.” and she grabs his hair so hard it hurts, but Minho can’t really bring himself to care so much about that, because slender fingers have wrapped around him, and Minho isn’t sure how because they never did this part before, but she seems to instinctively know exactly how he likes it. His hips have just started bucking into her grasp when she smirks and stops, prompting him to raise his head from where he was resting his forehead against her collarbone. He can feel his chest rising and falling rapidly, and the questioning look he sends her makes her laugh softly. She shoves at him, and Minho rolls over, not wanting to crush her, and then she’s on top of him, and he doesn’t even get to tell her to wait before she’s kissing his lips and sliding down over him. He tries protesting, but she’s pushing her tongue into his mouth, and it’s so sweet he can’t bring himself to say anything because he knows Teresa is a smart girl and he got tested himself recently, so he thinks they’ll be okay.  
  
And Teresa is so warm, so tight around him, she’s soft and he can’t help himself, his fingers are digging into her sides, and it’s hot and tight and she’s moving on top of him and his insides shouldn’t be curling already. So he pulls her entire body down, squeezing her as close to as he possibly can, and he stills her hips. He can feel her breasts press against him and he works his hips against her, quickly tiring of the frustrating position and flips them over again, making her gasp with surprise. Then everything explodes as she wraps her legs around his hips and she’s probably trying to get him to move faster, but Minho has other plans. Instead he moves in slow, deliberate movements, and when she starts protesting he kisses her lips, effectively silencing her with insistent kisses and shallow thrusts. He can feel her breathing grow faster and her fingers digging into the skin on shoulders tells him that she’s getting closer again, so he hitches her legs over his shoulder, thrusting deep and slow. He knows he’s not going to last much longer, so he gets a hand between their hips, trying to help her on the way while he’s mouthing at her neck.  
  
He knows that she’s close when his gut starts coiling and clenching with warmth because of the hitching pants that are leaving her, so he strains himself not to come just yet and he pulls out every trick in the book that he possibly can while still focusing on not blowing his load too soon, and when she starts clenching around him he finally lets himself go.


	2. I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minho tries doing the right thing. Minho is an idiot, so that doesn't work well.

Days go by before he remembers why he wanted to protest in the first place, because Teresa has fallen sick and she’s puking her guts out in the bathroom, and Minho feels the panic coil in his stomach when he walks out there, holding her hair back and stroking her back as softly as he can. “You okay?”  
  
Teresa half-laughs before retching again, and Minho’s glad he doesn’t have a nervous stomach because she’s  _really_ sick, and he doesn’t know what to do, so he just sits down behind her and holds her the best he can, making sure she gets nothing on her hair, and when she wants him to he gets her a glass of water.  
  
He waits for roughly five hours before asking, because he knows she’s feeling bad and he doesn’t want to press the issue when she’s so sick, but it finally slips out. “T, are you sure you’re not…?”   
  
She looks up at him from where she’s staring at the TV, watching the Disney movie Minho found for her, and she rolls her eyes. “Relax, I’m on the pill. It’s just the flu, don’t get your panties in a twist.”   
  
And Minho’s sort of relieved, but they didn’t talk about the sex before now, so he sits down and sighs softly. They’re good at keeping things to themselves, but this is probably something they can’t ignore, because last time they had the booze to blame and now they don’t anymore. “So… Fucking your roommate. That should go well.” He muses, looking at the TV. Maybe Disney isn’t the perfect background for this, but Minho’s not going to change it now.  
  
Teresa scoffs. “You fucked yours too.” She notes, and Minho’s gaze flashes to her face quickly.  
  
“That’s not what I meant. I meant like, the general idea of fucking your roommate. I’m not blaming you.”  
  
She snorts, “Good thing, ‘cause you fucking started it.” She claims, but she’s smiling, so Minho assumes that they’re good. He doesn’t have to ask though, because Teresa continues. “I guess there’s no point in trying to not do it again? I mean, it happened two – three? I guess we’ll never know – times by now. So basically, ground rules: I’m not your girlfriend, you’re not my boyfriend.  We’re just having sex. If it starts getting complicated we stop. No sulking of the other person brings someone home. No telling the others.”  
  
Minho nods, because really that sounds fucking stupendous to him. Always on the same page.  
  
And there’s no reason to worry about things getting weird, because Minho and Teresa could be anything, but first and foremost they’re friends.  
___________________________________________________________________  
  
It’s pretty good. Things are pretty damn good. They can almost always get some easy sex, and it’s probably the best sex any of them have ever had. It doesn’t take long for them to get to know each other’s bodies inside out, and that works perfectly. It’s easy, it’s fun, and it’s even kind of exciting to keep it secret from the others when they text each other filth while out.  
  
And it doesn’t matter when they drag someone else home with them, because it’s just sex and they’re friends, so there’s no jealousy really, and it’s actually kind of perfect.  
  
Until it’s not.  
  
Until one day Minho freezes in the middle of cooking dinner because Teresa walks in with no pants on for the first time in a long time. She’s doing her washing, so she’s only wearing his sweater, and seeing as they started screwing around she has actually had to wear pants most of the time because they wouldn’t get anything done if she didn’t. So it’s been a long time since he’s seen this, and he doesn’t know why, but the sight of Teresa in only his stupid, old sweater makes his heart thump harder in his chest, forcing a blush into his face, and he turns around and keeps cooking, squeezing his eyes shut because  _fuck, this is not right.  
  
_ And he’s sort of hoping her washing is done soon, because obviously he has some stuff to figure out, and he hates this, because when slim arms wrap around him from the back and she breathes against his ear (she must be standing on her tiptoes, he’s quite a deal taller than her) it sends a shiver down his spine and goose bumps break out on his arms. “Any plans tonight?” she asks, the flirty tone leaving nothing at all to the imagination concerning her intentions. He clears his throat when she presses her body against his, letting her lips trail from the soft skin just below his ear and then she nibbles at his shoulder, and he spins around, smirking because what else can he do?  
  
“Sorry T, I’m busy, big date tonight.” He states, and he does have a date, but he was actually considering blowing it off until he saw Teresa. Now he knows he has to try to do something  _(someone)_ else because he’s obviously too far in. His heart is pounding when she pouts at him and runs her fingertips down his chest.  
  
“Come on, Min, I’m bored and I don’t wanna go out. You can go on a date some other day, can’t you?” she asks sweetly, moving to palm at him slightly through his sweatpants and Minho barely manages not to moan at that.  
  
Instead he shakes his head, grabs her shoulders and pushes her away a little. “Nah man, I think this is a good one.” He tries, not wanting to admit anything to Teresa if he doesn’t have to.  
  
Maybe he can still make it. Maybe he can still find someone else, because he can’t be in love with Teresa. They could be so many things, but he wants them to be friends. He can’t lose her because he wasn’t aware enough of his feelings developing, and the way his heart jumps when she shrugs and says she’ll keep her fingers crossed for him makes him want to stick his head in the oven.  
  
This was not how it was supposed to go, because Minho and Teresa could be anything, but first and foremost they’re supposed to be friends.  
___________________________________________________________________  
  
The next month or so is hell.  
  
Minho tries. He really does. He tries anything, and his desperation grows. He spends more time at the gym, he goes on not one, but several dates as many nights a week as he possibly can. Minho works himself through endless lines of pretty faces but none of them really does anything for him anymore. When he closes his eyes he still see Teresa.  
  
When awkward, uncertain lips are on his he thinks of Teresa’s fervent kisses, the way she’s mapped out his mouth and body, the way she knows exactly what he wants even before he does himself. When he comes it feels hollow. It doesn’t matter how attractive the body underneath his is, it’s like he’s a machine by now. He has sex so that he doesn’t do it with Teresa.  
  
It doesn’t stop him from wanting to, but at least his body is sated though his mind isn’t. His mind is strongest, though, so whenever Teresa tries something his cock jumps at attention without her even having to do much, and she probably notices that something’s off because the straining boner doesn’t at all prompt him to have sex with her, and he used to not be able to get enough.  
  
If it bothers her she doesn’t say anything, at least not for a long time, and Minho mentally adds that to the ever-growing list of reasons he loves Teresa.  
  
It becomes an ever-growing shadow of guilt and he catches himself repeating the same patterns again and again.  
  
Wake up, think of Teresa, jerk off in the shower, self-loathing, leaving the apartment before Teresa can even notice him, come home, make some lame-ass excuse, leave, be charming, fuck date, go to sleep, repeat.  
  
He’s only ripped out of his pathetic, terrible routine when Teresa finally snaps. It’s been about three weeks when she corners him (literally, Teresa manages to back him into a corner, and she’s  _pissed._ )  
  
“You know what, Minho? I actually thought you were pretty cool. When we started doing this I thought we could make it work because we’re so similar, I expected you to at least be a fucking grown-up about this. If you didn’t want to do this anymore you should’ve  _told_ me instead of making lame-ass excuses. You know what it feels like to be rejected by a fucking  _manwhore_ for almost a month when you’ll put your dick in basically anything that moves? Explain yourself. Now. I’m pretty fucking familiar with your cock by now, I can tell when you’re interested, so what the fuck changed? I know it’s not because you’re dating someone special, ‘cause I’ve counted at least 6 different faces this week  _alone._ ” She sneers, and Minho is a bit taken aback by her anger, not that it’s really surprising. He just thought he was doing the right thing.  
  
And then he gets angry.  
  
He gets angry because that’s how Minho copes. “Well it’s not like you’ve been living in celibacy either, is it, T?” he snarls, and her eyes widen in shock and then narrow in anger.  
  
“Well I sure as hell don’t get to fuck you, so I guess I’ll have to find an alternative, don’t I, you arrogant prick? You don’t get to judge me, Minho! you’ve been with plenty more people than I have. You’re probably ridden with STD’s by now, don’t even bother, I’m done with this!” she yells, voice rising shrilly, and Minho feels a headache coming on, but he grabs her wrist anyway and pulls her close, covering her lips with his instantly, and she’s pounding on his chest, but she’s still kissing him back and at least that’s something. “I’m not fucking some disgusting, disease-ridden-“ she starts, and Minho kisses her again, harshly this time, and he holds onto her, because he never meant to ruin their friendship, he was trying to salvage it, and he can tell that if he doesn’t tell at least some of the truth now he’ll lose her forever.  
  
“I don’t have any STD’s, I never trusted anyone but you enough to do it without a condom.” He says, and she deflates completely at this, looking hurt, and he doesn’t know what he did wrong.  
  
Her voice is small when she answers, and Minho hates knowing that he put that look on her face, because she looks like she’s been slapped. “Then why the fuck did you stop being my friend? I don’t care if you don’t want to have sex any more. I care that you stopped being my friend, and I don’t understand why you’d do that to me.”    
  
And maybe his eyes sting a little bit, but he isn’t going to cry about this, because Minho just doesn’t cry. He’s just not the type, but he takes a deep breath and he puts his hands in her cheeks. “I just can’t do this anymore. It’s not about you, it’s about me.” He says, and he’s Minho, he doesn’t talk about his emotions, so he can’t offer her anymore explanation than that, so instead he just holds her close, and a single tear might drip down his and into her hair, but if she feels it she doesn’t comment on it, and that might be because her shoulders are shaking.  
  
He knows he should offer her something better. He knows he needs to explain himself, but he can’t make the words come out, so instead he kisses her hair and grips her so tight he’s a little scared he’ll break her. But he also knows that he could never break Teresa. She’s strong. She’s so much stronger than him, and Minho realizes that even though he thought he was giving her what she deserved, he wasn’t. He tried, but Teresa doesn’t see him like that, and he’s not going to tell her about his feelings when they’re not being reciprocated, because even if he can’t give her what she deserves in the love department, he’ll still be her friend.   
  
Because Minho and Teresa could be anything, but first and foremost they’re friends.  
___________________________________________________________________  
  
And things are almost back to normal after a little while. Minho’s heart is still aching, and he still wants to punch the teeth of every person who nears Teresa into their skull, but he’s good at pretending. He’s jealous, and he spends more time boxing than he ever has before. He dates exclusively brunettes with lithe frames and electric blue eyes and cocky smirks, and maybe he fucks up a couple of times. He manages to call not one, not two, but four different girls Teresa. And he feels bad, because they’re just random fucks, but they don’t deserve to be called by the wrong name just because he’s pathetically out of touch with his emotions. So he apologizes, he scrambles to not hurt anyone, but he fails and he falls, and he hates himself.  
  
It only goes away when they’re on the couch, gaming until early morning, or watching Teresa’s terrifying horror flics or ripping on stupid TV-shows and Minho stops falling. He’s not exactly floating, but he’s falling slower. It feels more like trying to crawl up from a hole that keeps getting deeper and deeper while he’s crawling than anything else. He tries to tell himself that everything is normal, that they’re just friends, and he fails so hard.  
  
Because Minho and Teresa could be so many things, but first and foremost they’re friends, even if that’s growing harder and harder for every day that goes by.  
  
___________________________________________________________________  
  
  
He’s so close to snapping, he’s so high-strung and tightly wound that he’s almost ready to just go for it and say screw it all when Teresa comes home smiling. “What’re you so happy about?” he asks, hoping that maybe now is the time for him to say something. If she’s in a good mood she might not decapitate him if he says something wrong.  
  
“Michael and I decided to get exclusive. We’ve been on a shitload of dates right now, and yeah, it’s gonna be nice to have like a single person instead of the whole dating-game. I mean, it’s mostly sex by now, but it might be something.” He can’t really tell if her voice is slightly reproachful.  
  
Minho feels like she stabbed him in the gut. He feels like the entire world is collapsing in, and it takes every ounce of his strength not to cave in on himself right then and there. “Oh.” He says, and he can tell that his voice sounds hollow, “That’s good.” He states, but no, it’s not good, because he hates Michael. The guy is a smug bastard with black hair and brown eyes and Minho  _hates_ him like he never hated anyone before. The level of contempt he holds for the arrogant prick is beyond anything he can express with words, and it’s really not his business, so he walks into his room and grabs his gym-bag. “Sorry T, can we talk about tonight? I’m on my way to the gym, gotta stay fit for my fans, you know.” He states, trying to pull off the joke, but he’s not sure she’s buying it and he’s not going to wait to find out. Instead he gets out of the apartment and straight to the gym where he punches the boxing bag until he can’t even lift his arms anymore, and he’s ready to collapse from exhaustion.  
  
He should be the good friend he knows he can be.  
  
He should accept this.  
  
He should sit back and hope that Teresa has finally found someone who will give her what she deserves.  
  
But she hasn’t. Minho knows it. Michael is just another douchebag, and Minho tried to be selfless, he really did. He’s done his best, and he’s realized that he can’t keep lying to himself. He can’t keep telling himself that this will go away, and he can’t keep pretending that he’s not the one who could be that perfect person for Teresa. The only question left is if she’ll want him.  
  
So he showers and dresses quickly, for the first time in a long time not bothering with his hair, and he’s home without even having thought about how he got here. He flings his bicycle against the nearest wall and fumbles with the lock because  _he doesn’t have time for this._    
  
When he stumbles into the apartment Teresa is in front of the mirror in the hallway getting ready for her date and Minho drops his gym-bag unceremoniously. “T?” he asks, and when she turns around the words die in his throat. She’s beautiful. She’s so beautiful all air leaves him, and he sucks in a breath, and he’s everything but regular Minho right now, so he pulls himself together and he pushes the door closed behind him, leaning against the table in the hallway and smirking at her, because hey, she had sex with him before, right? It must be what’s going to work. “I don’t think you should date Michael. I think you should date me.”  
  
He doesn’t really expect her incredulous laughter, and it stings a little of he’s being perfectly honest with himself. But he doesn’t let the smirk slip off of his face, because he can’t make himself.  
  
“That’s funny, Min. Very funny. Remember that you were the one who wanted to stop having sex? You don’t get to change your mind now because I found someone I want to see more. You’re just freaking out because you know that the window for easy sex is closing. Can’t you just go find someone else to fuck?” she laughs, and he grimaces slightly, biting his lower lip for just a second before walking over to her, putting a hand on her hip.   
  
“Come on, T, don’t be like that, I’m serious.” He states, brushes a strand of hair from her face, and her eyes narrow a bit. Shit. He fucked up again.  
  
She takes a step back and crosses her arms over her chest. “Don’t be an idiot. I’m not going to date you. You’re a complete moron if you think I don’t see through that in a second. You’re not going to drag me from something serious just because you’ve decided that you’re horny again, you’re supposed to be my fucking friend, Minho. I don’t know what’s going on with you, but frankly I don’t want to know if you’re not going to get your act together. You promised that you’d be my friend, and you aren’t.”  
  
Minho’s not certain if her voice has gone a little shaky or if he’s imagining it, but the thought of it is enough to strip him from the attitude and he lets his hands fall to his sides, shrugging helplessly. “I’m sorry, T, I know, but I just…” he starts, gathering every ounce of courage in his body and straightens up. “I want you. I don’t want to be your fuck buddy. I want to do this for real. That’s why I didn’t want to keep doing that. I was scared to lose you, but I’m losing you anyway. I’m jealous all the time, T, I’m such an idiot. I tried distancing myself from you but it didn’t work and I… I can’t pretend anymore.”  
  
Teresa narrows her eyes, her lips pressed into a thin line, and she stares at him. Minho finds that his palms are growing sweaty. This was stupid. He shouldn’t have said anything. “You can’t pretend  _what?”_ she demands, and Minho opens and closes his mouth a couple of times because does she really expect him to say it?   
  
Saying things out loud makes them sound so final, and Minho’s terrified. So instead he shoves his hands in his pockets, cocks his head a bit and smirks again, adding a little wink for effect because he doesn’t know what else to do. “That I don’t want you.” He states, and that was definitely the wrong thing to say.  
  
Teresa glares daggers at him and pushes past him without saying a word, and only when she’s outside the door where Moron Michael is standing, ready to knock, she looks back at him. “Remember that I know all your moves, Min. That crap doesn’t fly with me. You’re gonna have to step up.” She hisses, and then she leaves and Minho is left standing there, feeling like an idiot.  
  
She’s right, he realizes. Of course she doesn’t believe him. It makes sense. Because she’s completely right when she says that she knows all his moves. She knows how it looks when Minho goes autopilot, but the thing is, he doesn’t know how to do anything else. Minho doesn’t really form genuine romantic connections, and the mere prospect of having to try to behave like a real person with real feelings is terrifying to him. So he takes another shower, a real one this time, and he definitely doesn’t think about Teresa on a date with Moron Michael. He doesn’t. He just ponders what to do. And if he punches a wall that’s not because this is particularly frustrating to him, it’s just because he has anger issues.  
  
When done with his shower, hair and clothes he decides that he can’t really plan himself out of this one. He just needs to do something, anything, and not planning it is probably what she wants, right? Because she doesn’t believe in the smooth, planned Minho, so maybe he needs to show her the desperate Minho he’s been for the past two months.

 

_Minho: Do you know where Teresa and Michael are?  
Newt: Yes.  
Minho: Tell me where, you stupid tea-drinker.  
Newt: No.  
  
Minho: Do you know where Teresa and Michael are?  
Thomas: yeh.  
Minho: Where?  
Thomas: N says not 2 tell you.  
Minho: I say to tell me.  
Thomas: What r u going 2 do?  
_ _Minho: Why is Newt telling you not to? Did she say anything to you guys?_ _Thomas: maybe  
_ _Minho: Thomas, I really need you to tell me, I have to talk to her.  
_ _Thomas: ill txt u where but dont tell them it was me. just say u stalked her or smth.  
_ _Minho: Fine._

  
And as soon as Thomas texts him the address Minho is on his way out the door, nervous as hell but also determined. His heart is beating like crazy, and he reminds himself to get Thomas an extra big Christmas present. And he’s wrecking his brain, and he hates himself the whole way. He actually walks the entire way, struggling to figure out what he’s going to say, but nothing comes to mind. So when he passes a patch of daisies and his desperation has grown so strong that his heart is pounding and his hands are sweaty, but he’s determined. This is Teresa. This is his friend, and he’s in love with her, and nothing’s going to convince him that he shouldn’t tell her that.  
  
So he barges into the restaurant, and it’s a fucking trashy place and Minho can’t believe that this doucheface actually took her here  _(okay it’s not, but Minho would take her somewhere even better)_ but he makes his way almost all the way to their table before a waiter steps in front of him, smiling brightly. “Hi, can I help you?” she asks, and Minho looks over her shoulder to make sure Teresa and Michael haven’t seen him yet.  
  
“Uh. Yeah. Yeah. I’m with those two over there. The pretty girl and the doucheface.”  
  
The girl frowns and looks at him, blinking in confusion, looking back at the table and she moves aside uncertainly. “Uhm. Okay. Let me know if I can help you with anything else.” She says, and Minho only vaguely realizes that usually he’d flirt with this girl, but there’s literally not a single gram of interest in his entire body. It’s using all it’s strength of yearning after pressing his lips to Teresa’s after having punched Michael in his ugly face.  _(it’s not really ugly, Minho realizes that, but it helps to think of the dickface as ugly)_  
  
Minho and Teresa could be anything, and this guy isn’t coming between them. First and foremost, they’re friends, but Minho wants her to be so much more. He’ll take what he can get from her, but he’s not going down without a fight. He’s almost there when Michael looks up and stands, looking like he’s just as ready for a fight as Minho is, and Minho all but growls when he stops in front of him, “Get out of my way, man, this isn’t about you.” He snarls, clenching his fists because if he has to beat the crap out of him to get to Teresa, he will, and he knows she’ll hate it. She’ll think he’s a brute, but that’s better than never getting to tell her.  
  
Teresa is standing now too, walking around Michael and glaring at Minho. “Seriously, Min, you can’t just pull shit like this, this is not okay!” she hisses, keeping her voice low, obviously hoping to avoid them making a scene.   
  
Minho’s heart sinks, but he uses the last fragments of his courage and sticks out his hand with the flowers that he only now remembers. They’re crumbled and he feels his face turn bright red with embarrassment when he realizes. “I’m in love with you, Teresa. I have been for a while now, and I get why you don’t believe that, I know I can be such a piece of shit, but I’ve never wanted anyone like I want you. And if you need me to convince you that I’m speaking the truth, I will. I don’t care how long it takes, just don’t date this fuckface. You deserve better than him.”  
  
And Michael starts protesting behind her, but Teresa holds up a hand, still glaring at Minho. “And that’s you?” she asks, but it sounds like a statement, like she’s being sarcastic, and Minho clears his throat and tries to force this pathetic blush from his face, because this is nothing like him.  
  
“Doesn’t it tell you anything that I came here?" he asks, hesitating because this is uncomfortable and he has to work not to put on his signature sarcastic smirk. "You know I don’t like this stuff. I hate declarations of love. Grand gestures are stupid. I’m sorry that I fucked things up so bad that you need them from me, because I know you used to trust me. It’s my fault that you don’t anymore, I know,” he says, and his voice stutters to a stop because Teresa has turned to Michael and he’s pretty sure he’s going to die if this means that she made her choice, so he rushes on, spewing shit he never thought he would, but he needs to make her understand no matter how much he has to fight to get this out, “But I’ve been miserable ever since I realized and I’ve made some mistakes because I tried to ignore what I feel for you. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, and doing that I managed to fuck everything up, and if you’ll let me I’ll do anything to fix it.” He promises, and he’s breathing hard because no matter how chill he pretends to be, Minho just doesn’t do feelings and he knows that it’s so fucked up that it’s so tough for him to tell her this, but it is, and he’s standing in a semi-crowded restaurant and he’s offering his heart to her.  
  
Teresa turns around again, obviously shocked by his words, and she leaves Michael behind with certain steps, and when she reaches Minho she stops abruptly and there’s close to no space between them. “Minho, if this is some twisted joke to you, I swear, you won’t get out of this alive. If you’re playing me, I will crazy murder you in the most painful of ways. You don’t get to break my heart all over. If you leave me like some sad little girl chasing after you and trying to make you want me again, I will personally make sure you never stick your dick in anything again, do you understand?” she says, and she doesn’t even bother keeping her voice down anymore, but Minho just nods, and he feels a smile starting to blossom on his lips. He probably shouldn’t smile, she’ll be angry with him. The glare she sends him could probably melt through steel, but he can’t wipe the smile of his face.  
  
“Does this mean…?” he starts, but Teresa just narrows her eyes at him and kisses him  _hard_  and if Minho didn’t hate this Michael dude so much, he’d feel bad for the guy, but he doesn’t really waste any time thinking of him, instead he puts his arms around Teresa’s waist. It’s perfect. She fits in his arms like no one else, and her kisses are the sweetest, hottest thing he’s ever had, and he knows in that second that he could easily spend the rest of his life tasting nothing but her.   
His heard is pounding, and he regrets everything he did to put this off, he regrets hurting her, because Minho might be an idiot when it comes to love, but he’s not a complete moron, so his brain is rapidly putting the pieces together, realizing that while he was trying to distance himself from her, she was already ahead of him, always smarter, quicker, trying to win him over. Teresa had accepted so much faster than him what they were actually supposed to be, and Minho is going to spend all the time he needs to on apologizing for that, but for now it’s enough to kiss her. Her fingers are in his hair, and her lips are insistent like she’s still a bit angry with him, but it’s perfect none the less, because they can finally stop pretending.   
  
When they need to come up for breath Michael is leaving the place, having left a note on the table that Minho walks over and picks up. He frowns when he reads it, and Teresa comes up behind him, snorting when she sees the letters. “Well, I guess I dodged a bullet with that one.” She states, crumbling up the napkin with SLUT written in capital letters. Minho just fights to keep his cool because he wants to run after him and murder him for calling Teresa something like that, but 1) The dude’s obviously had his ego brutally slaughtered and his dignity shred to pieces right in front of an entire restaurant, 2) He doesn’t want to let Teresa go for the shortest of seconds.  
  
“I’m sorry.” He just says, and she shakes her head slowly.   
  
“Not now. You can apologize later. Let’s get out of here. I wanna go for ice-cream.”  
  
Minho buys her the biggest amount of strawberry ice-cream that anyone has ever bought at the shop, and it doesn’t matter that half of it is staining their clothes when they’re done, because her kisses taste like strawberry ice-cream and possibilities, and if there’s a bitter note of wasted time, that doesn’t matter. She swallows every apology he tries to make in kisses, and she tells him to shut up and stop being an idiot, because he’s ruining the moment, and he tells her that he’s an idiot, that he’s sorry, that she’s perfect, and she tells him that she knows, that he’s an idiot, and that he needs to stop reminding her to be angry with him. She says that she’ll let him make it up to her.   
  
Because Minho and Teresa can be anything. And they will be. But they were friends first, and that’s how Minho knows that she means it.

  
___________________________________________________________________  
  
They’ve been dating for almost a year when, to everyone’s surprise, they find out that Gally’s the one who leaked the picture of them.  
  
Minho makes fun of him for being a major creep for about fifteen minutes before Teresa takes pity on the poor guy, and Minho just shrugs and puts his arm around her.  
  
Gally gags on the other side of the table, and Minho cocks an eyebrow when he mutters, “You two are more disgusting than Thomas and Newt.”  
  
Teresa scoffs, offended at the implications, and shakes her head violently, “Uh, fuck no we’re not, they’re like… diabetes sweet.” She states, pushing out her chin in that stubborn, adorable way that makes Minho want to kiss her silly.  
  
“Shut up and go make out with Albert, Gally.” Minho orders, referring to one of the stones that Gally collect, and Teresa elbows him in the ribs because he shouldn’t really tease Gally with the rock-collecting. “What, I’m just trying to be supportive, I’m glad Gally found a nice boy he can settle down wi- oomph.” His sentence is stopped halfway through when she elbows him again, but then she kisses him on the corner of the mouth and rolls her eyes fondly.  
  
“Look. Disgusting.” Gally mutters to himself, and then he leaves for another table because no one really wants to watch Teresa and Minho make eyes at each other, and he’s sort of scared because last time all of them were out Minho accidentally kicked him while trying to play footsie with Teresa.  
  
Above everything, Teresa and Minho are friends. They had no idea how much they could be, but they do now, and nothing can make them regret stumbling into each other that first day, because this is probably the best thing they could ever become.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I should probably be sorry about this but I'm not.


End file.
